The Frater B.c.i IX Files: Jerry Lewis

ADMIN. NOTE: I have spent the past two weeks preparing for this day… the eve of the solar eclipse and the day of the Kong of Komedy’s passing. Odd as it may seem, during the preceeding days, I have been in deep discussion with my consorts and this posting is released under harshest ill-advisement. Only a week ago, our Templars had been arguing, screamlaughing and barking like horny dogs over Monsieur Lewis’ relative merits when Frater B.c.i IX offered this page from his journal dating over three months ago. This morning, he swore it wasn’t a curse. But, I’m Cock of the Wok in these parts, so I chose to accept his bleatings at face-value and, since this entry Pretty much sums up the bruised fruitas of our combined deliberations and acquittals, I decided to post it as some kind of lizzopy ‘memorial.’ Good taste has never been the Templar’s strong suit, nor do I have any horse in that race. Please rest assured that our dear disingenuous Frater B.c.i IX was racked with savory guilt… and resplendent remorse… as he’s a reprobate Remote Assassin of the Stars. Not a great feat, though, since J.L. has been on shaky footing for a few years. I mean seriously, Frater, how hard would it be to bring that wobbly Jenga tower down? What a coward.

However, this post isn’t really about squeaking ill of dead clowns: neither Frater B.c.i IX nor J.L. (may his surreal and ambiguous heart rest in peace). It’s one dark and lonely man’s howlings regarding another- more famous, more handsome- dark and lonely man’s ‘legacy?’ Think of it this way: it’s a single, ridiculous man’s findings in a world where truth is so hard to come by.

As another side note, seeing that Dick Gregory died yesterday, I’ll save my tears for his loss instead.

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i cringe way down deep inside when i watch him. there are very few performers who i feel this way about. my love for him is only outshined by my sheer, abject loathing.

Jim Carrey has been compared to J.L. and i suspect they’re both bots been working their adoring audiences for years. they’ve fulfilled their missions to enact the shadow plan, sending out coded messages and dispatching foot soldiers.

for me, Jerry Lewis helped draw into high relief the fraud that is, largely, western medicine by adding a heaping helping of his faded star-power and sending it into guilt filled Kleenex overdrive. he helped his Illuminated handlers by sending out their vital information in cipher through tote boards and tymps. you just thought it was tongue in cheek charity, didn’t you? (with a little bit of heavy-handed brow-beating when it gets down to the wire, of course) he’s as good at explicitly calling someone a piece-of-shit as he is at falling over with a tray of pies in his hands.

Over decades, how much for help and a cure? cure? what cure? and help? whelp…???

nobody wanna cure shit. his masters are only interested in activating their armies. he’s merely a blubbering comic marionette of industry.

OH… WE’RE CLOSING IN ON THE CURE, BUT THE CLOSER WE RUN THE BEHINDER WE BLUNDER… or so it seems... with pencils hanging from our upper lips. we are the walri… goo goo g’joob! yuck yuck YUCK! just a shill for the true handlers.

such kind eyes?

it was Jerry Lewis that crippled himself and, for a time, succumbed to the splendor of pain pills. For our entertainment! just like a lot of the other greats of that era. in that way, i suppose, he was being a Good Savior. especially to the french. he sacrificed himself for our collective fancies.

he understands showbiz, Gogamnit!

Jerry Lewis’ stunt of drinking water and letting it dribble out of both side of his mouth
never loses its hilarity. watch him fit a whole tumbler in his mouth, but, keep your eyes on his Filthy Hands.

Jerry Lewis doesn’t know how to treat a lady. admittedly, this is a presumption, but i’ll wager it’s correct.

all of nevada couldn’t contain Jerry Lewis’ ego… or the massive pile of
diapers necessary to keep him dry and clean! (ADMIN. NOTE: This was a cheapo shot, and even more embarrassing in light of… well… you know.) why… he doesn’t give a shit about some hack from the Hollywood Reporter! he’d just as soon shit on a Hollywood reporter. watch his eyes and his mouth.

at one time, the next in line to host the Jerry Lewis telethon was Martin Short. or was it drew carey? Jim Carrey? whatever… i was preparing for a case of the CARIES: just another fiendly face representing the Shadow Legion!

then they cancelled the thing! the illusions of my up-in-smoke childhood (when i used to believe in the ‘essential good’ within human nature, or the innocuity of television and its attendant Personalities) fell back to earth in broken, ashen crusts.

oh wait… what? they cancelled the telethon? it’s not because they found a cure.

believe that.

and it’s not because Jerry Lewis can’t, and never could, really sing… or tell a funny joke. but then again david byrne can’t sing either…

but I like his voice.

i don’t think david byrne would consider this a compliment.

in fact, david byrne cantell a funny joke and is more deserving of the title COMEDIAN than Jerry Lewis. however, i still doubt david byrne would consider this a compliment.

whatever happened to david byrne, by the way? did he quietly disappear into the Amazon basin or wherever he’s gone to steal music now?

Jerry Lewis has a track record of condemning fellow comics. he’s moralized over the likes of Chris Rock and Rosanne barrarnolderwhaterverthehell. meanwhile, out the other side of his face he’s calling somebody a faggot or saying that refugees should ‘just stay where the hell they are.’

yeah… everybody hates refugees, right?

at least he jams his pie-hole up afterwards by putting the whole microphone down his throat. when the mood takes him, that is.